


beginner's spin

by noobishere



Series: pole-dancer au [1]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pole Dancing AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 15:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10363392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noobishere/pseuds/noobishere
Summary: To be honest Youngjae had come here with trepidation, not knowing what to expect when Himchan said he picked up pole dancing to lose weight and that Youngjae should check it out some time.(a.k.a a pole-dancing!au with instructor daehyun and thirsty youngjae)





	

**Author's Note:**

> this au belongs purely to nyanmako, hence this was written with most of what she (and i) wanted to see: dh's thighs and a very thirsty yj

  


  


_B.A.P Dance Studio_

Youngjae looks back to his phone, the chat with Himchan still open, checking if he’s at the right place. It’s a nondescript establishment by the corner of the street, with a bland signboard to go with the look. 

The place looks completely harmless, which is a bit unexpected. 

To be honest Youngjae had come here with trepidation, not knowing what to expect when Himchan said he picked up pole dancing to lose weight and that Youngjae should check it out some time. 

Obviously, and regrettably, the first thing that he blurted out at Himchan’s admission was a scandalised, “You’re strip dancing now?!” which had of course resulted in a bump at the back of his head with how hard Himchan had hit him. 

So when Himchan had told him it was open day at the studio today, Youngjae was obligated to agree, mostly to make amends of his shortcomings regarding the sport itself but also because Himchan had threatened to cut his balls off if he doesn’t. 

Taking a deep breath, Youngjae pushes the tinted glass doors open; his entrance welcomed by a tinkling chime and a friendly welcome from the receptionist. He takes in the interior of the lobby. 

The light fixtures on the ceiling illuminate the area in a soft light, bouncing off the grey wall and onto the vinyl flooring. There’s a long comfy looking couch lining up the other side of the wall, a bunch of framed certificates propped up on the shelf hovering above it. The receptionist sits at the desk facing the entrance, with a computer occupying half of it. An array of black and white aesthetics going on with the artworks that hang on the wall behind her. Youngjae sees a doorway that runs to the back, presumably leading to the studio. It’s a very contemporary look compared to the bland exterior. 

“I’m here for the open day?” Youngjae says to the receptionist, unsure. 

Her face lights up. “Oh yes, come right with me.” 

Youngjae follows her through the doorway and immediately he can hear soft music pouring from one of the doors that is left slightly ajar. 

“You’re ten minutes early,” the receptionist says. “He’s still warming up.” She directs him to where the music is coming from and bows politely before getting back to her post at the front. 

He eyes the door cautiously, taking slow steps to it. There’s a plaque on it that reads: _Jung Daehyun._

The room is modestly sized, enough to fit ten people at least, and it seems he’s the only occupant at the moment. It’s just like any dancing studios he’s been to, brightly lit, with mirrors lining an entire wall, but with the addition of poles scattered across the room, installed from floor to ceiling. What really catches his attention though, is the only other man in the room currently occupying one of the two poles at the very front. 

He’s dressed in a simple black tee and black tights that run down to the top of his knees. He’s gripping the pole high above his head and has his legs fanned out behind him as he spins around the metal, deliberately slow, in tune to the soft music. Youngjae watches in awe as he, just as slowly, manoeuvres his body around the pole and pulls himself upside down, spreading his legs into a perfect split, all the while still spinning. 

It all looks effortless, but Youngjae can see the way the muscles in the man’s arms and shoulders bunch, as they are essentially holding his entire weight mid-air, upside down, no less. He understands more now, why Himchan is taking pole dancing. 

The man brings his legs together before coiling one around the pole, the other leg stretching away from it. The hands that were supporting his weight let go, spreading out behind him as if he’s in flight, back arching as he does so. He is in complete control of his own body. 

And what a gorgeous body it is. Youngjae is completely enthralled by his sheer strength, thigh muscles visibly flexing as he hangs upside down and spins around the pole with the measured speed of a dying fan. He’s extremely flexible too, Youngjae notes, contorting his body in any way he needs it to be in mere seconds. And it doesn’t hurt to appreciate the way his shirt bunches up from the position he’s in, revealing tanned skin. 

Youngjae is brought back to earth when the pole squeaks as the man abruptly stops, staring at him with wide eyes, and only then does Youngjae realise he’s been gawking like an idiot. 

Discreetly checking if he hadn’t actually been drooling, Youngjae silently observes the way the man straightens himself up, tamping down the disappointment when the other’s shirt falls back into place. He switches off the music with a small remote and smiles apologetically. 

His brain is stuck in a loop, screeching only one thing: _lips lips lips lips lips lips lips lips lips lips lips lips_ —

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” 

—and Youngjae tries very hard to supress the shudders that run down his spine, because. That _voice_. He vaguely remembers Himchan describing one of his co-workers’ voice as liquid sex and Youngjae had not fully grasp the meaning of it until he heard this man spoke. It will definitely haunt him in his sleep and probably accompany him and his right hand in his nightly tryst. 

He doesn’t know how he manages to sound calm when he says, “It’s okay, I was enjoying the show.” 

The smile dissolves as the man in front of him blinks, dumbfounded. 

In the momentary silence that follows, Youngjae takes his chance to properly appreciate the other, now that he isn’t hanging off a pole. At this distance, he can tell they are both equally well matched in height, but this guy is definitely more filled in. His eyes trace the slope of his shoulders down to his bulky arms, and this close, Youngjae notes how the tights are doing a wondrous job at accentuating his thick thighs. Youngjae never knew he was capable of feeling jealous over inanimate objects and yet here he is wishing he were that very pole. 

The man coughs awkwardly, and Youngjae has to drag his appreciative gaze from his thighs to his face. His cheeks are tinged pink, either from embarrassment at being openly ogled, or from the short workout he was doing moments ago, Youngjae isn’t sure, all he knows is that it goes well with his dark skin. 

He tries not to feel too embarrassed himself. Youngjae isn’t really a stranger when it comes to flirting but he’s never been borderline harassing people with his eyes either, and he might feel more ashamed of himself if he isn’t busy feeling smug with how he’s rendered the other speechless. 

He offers a winning smile instead, holding out his hand in a bid to salvage the atmosphere. “Yoo Youngjae,” he says. 

The clammy hand that wraps around his is big and warm, completely engulfing his own small one. Youngjae bites his lip to supress a content sigh. 

“Jung Daehyun,” the other replies. 

Youngjae is about to apologize for being creepy, but then people start to trickle into the studio and they’re no longer the only two. He shrugs, and to his delight, Daehyun acknowledges the gesture for what it is with a nod and a small smile. 

As soon as the room starts filling with people, both men and women, Daehyun clears his throat to gain everyone’s attention and starts the session by introducing himself. 

Daehyun talks about pole dancing extensively, the workout, the preparation hours, the routines, and other technical stuff. It’s amazing how much Youngaje doesn’t know; how it’s a proper sport with well-established competitions held nationally and internationally — _it’s a lot like gymnastics,_ Daehyun had said in response to everyone’s shocked faces, looking smug— and Youngjae tries really hard to pay attention, but as time ticks by he finds it slipping. 

He finds his focus is trained completely on Daehyun himself, instead of what he’s currently saying. Youngjae’s eyes follow his movements as he paces around while explaining, hands gesturing wildly. Daehyun says something that makes the room erupt into laughter and Youngjae finds the way he smiles completely endearing, his lips stretches so wide over his white teeth it bunches up his cheekbones and scrunches his eyes into tiny slits. 

He’s lost track of what is going on when suddenly Daehyun makes eye contact with him. Youngjae feels his breath stutter, feeling caught out, only regaining it back when Daehyun’s gaze skitters away. It was only for a moment, and Daehyun is already moving on to another topic, regarding everybody in the room with a careful eye, but Youngjae still feels a bit winded. 

That brief moment sobered him up enough that he starts tuning in to what is being said, and is confused when he’s greeted by the room cheering Daehyun on. 

Daehyun puts up his hands in front of him in surrender, calming everyone down. When he walks over to the nearest pole, the one he used when Youngjae came in, everyone including Youngjae himself sits straighter. 

“I’ll do a beginner’s spin,” Daehyun says. He grips onto the pole high above his head with his right hand, hooks his right knee onto it, and swings his body around; his knees are spread wide so that his toes are touching, his left hand reaching back to his ankle as he spins round until he slides to the ground. 

Daehyun pops right back up once he’s done, grinning at the applaud he gets. 

“Now,” Daehyun props his hands on his hips as he regards everyone, “any volunteers?” 

There’s a round of nervous laughter, but nobody’s volunteering. Which is just as well, because Youngjae is sure he’s doomed to it the moment he sees Daehyun’s body angling towards his direction. 

“Youngjae?” Daehyun wheedles. 

Youngjae curses inwardly, regretting telling Daehyun his name but also revelling in the way he says it. He strides over to him, heart pounding because he’s about to humiliate himself in front of two dozens of people, and also because it’s the first time he’s standing this close to Daehyun; his pleased smile is a lot more blinding up close. 

“Do you need me to show you again?” 

Youngjae doesn’t, but it’s an excuse to see the other in action, up close, and he’s not about to miss that chance. “Uh, sure.” 

He stares at Daehyun’s thigh wrapped around the pole as he swings; trying to commit to memory the way the muscles ripple in action. Youngjae almost loses his breath again when Daehyun looks up at him once he’s done, kneeling on the floor, and Youngjae promptly locks up the wicked thoughts bouncing around in his head in a safe place. 

Daehyun gets up and beckons him over. “Ready?” 

“Yeah…” Youngjae regards the pole in front of him, dubious. He tests a grip to find the metal warmed with body heat, and silently prays that his brief foray into B-boying back in high school would pay off. 

When Daehyun starts rattling off instructions, Youngjae follows suit: dominant hand on pole, hook dominant leg over it, push into a spin with the other leg—

“Hang on,” he pauses, narrowing his eyes at Daehyun. “If I get this right, you’re taking me on a date.” 

The drone of chatter halts and silence washes over the room. Youngjae considers making a run for it lest he gets gay bashed, but then the room erupts into hoots, and Youngjae delights in the way a bashful red colours across Daehyun’s cheeks as he grins. 

“Then make sure you get it right.” 

It’s a challenge, Youngjae’s sure of it, and he’s always been very competitive. He rolls his shoulders and gets back into position. As he’s about to push off into a spin, his brain malfunctions for a millisecond when Daehyun pipes up a reminder, “Spread your knees and keep your toes together.” 

Taking a deep, calming breath, Youngjae studiously ignores his brain freaking out over Daehyun saying _spread your knees, jesus fucking christ,_ and pushes off into a spin. He’s spinning a bit too fast, and barely manages to complete the move before he slides down to a stop. At least he didn’t face plant straight into the floor and humiliate himself. 

Youngjae blinks, looking over for Daehyun’s approval. 

Daehyun has his arms crossed, looking amused and impressed at the same time. “Not bad for a first try.” 

“I have a natural talent,” he says, sounding way too smug given how he’s staggering to stand up, his muscles straining at the unexpected workout. 

Daehyun laughs, shaking his head in exasperation before he dismisses the session, telling the diminishing crowd to join in the fun and sign up for a class. 

Youngjae hangs back, waiting silently as Daehyun talks to one of the attendees. He feels self-conscious the moment he notices the room is empty save for the two of them, and fidgets in his spot when Daehyun walks over to him, all his bravado from before drained out. 

Daehyun makes a move to push his hands into the pocket of his jeans before remembering the tights he’s wearing, so he picks at an invisible lint instead. 

“So about that date,” he starts, “I have a class in ten minutes” —Yongjae visibly deflates— “but we can go after that if you don’t mind waiting for 45 minutes.” 

Youngjae nods quickly. It’s a relief to know he’s not the only one unsure. He points over his shoulder to the door. “I’ll, uh... wait out front.” 

Daehyun smiles wide, his teeth in full display. Youngjae laughs softly and gives a small wave before he walks out into the lobby. 

He recognises the figure looming over the reception desk, poring over a sheet. “Himchan-hyung?” 

Himchan looks up and beams at him. “Hey, Youngjae. So how was it?” 

He slumps over to the couch; the image of Daehyun hanging off a pole by his thigh dancing around in his mind and he sighs dreamily. “It’s amazing, hyung.” 

He begins regaling the tale in which he’d encountered the ever beautiful dancer named Jung Daehyun and how he stole his heart to Himchan. At least he plans to, but Himchan is already rushing over to the studio, saying they’ll talk later, so Youngjae ends up with a hand frozen in a gesture and blinking dumbly. 

Sighing, he pulls out his phone and leans back into the cushion, mindful to sit in a respectable way because this isn’t his home and he has common sense. 

He’s in the middle of a half-hearted boss battle when he hears the sound of chatters drifting from the studio, down the hallways and into the lobby. He can distinctly hear Himchan’s voice and quickly pockets his phone. 

Daehyun is laughing at something Himchan said. The familiarity between them giving him pause: Himchan has his arm slung around Daehyun’s shoulder, their sides pressed together as they snicker over something funny. He wonders if there’s something more between them. 

“Youngjae!” 

He blinks at his name, Himchan sauntering over to him, pulling Daehyun along with him. Himchan presents Daehyun to him like a salesman would to a customer, a grin on his face. “Meet Daehyun.” 

Daehyun looks over at him, a twinkle in his eyes, and Youngjae realises that he’s holding in a laugh. He huffs, amused. “Yeah, we’ve met.” 

Daehyun opens his mouth to say something but Himchan interjects with a, “Great! Now let’s grab dinner together.” His face contorts into a frown as he glares at Himchan. 

“Actually,” Daehyun says, “we have a —”

Himchan hauls Youngjae up from the couch, slinging his other arm around him and drags the two of them outside. “Dinner with my two favourite dongsaengs,” he cheers, completely ignoring Daehyun’s grumbles. 

  


\--

  


Dinner was awful. 

Youngjae had to sit opposite of Daehyun instead of next to him, Himchan claiming that spot. 

They chattered, but Youngjae could only focus on Himchan’s arm still slung over Daehyun’s shoulder, keeping him close. He felt mollified by the frown that stuck on Daehyun’s face though, equally annoyed. 

Although it was every bit as dreadful with Himchan taking over the conversation, he did at least spill on Daehyun. Apparently, they’ve been friends since high school, and Himchan seemed to take great pleasure in embarrassing Daehyun in front of other people as he kept telling Youngjae more embarrassing stories despite Daehyun’s protest. 

Forgetting that he was supposed to be annoyed, Youngjae ended up laughing so hard he slapped the table multiple times to the point where the waitress had to come over and shush them with a tight smile. 

The highlight of the night, however, was definitely that time Daehyun accidentally stepped on his foot, and silently apologised by pressing his leg against Youngjae’s and stayed throughout dinner. 

So dinner wasn’t a complete disaster. But Daehyun still owes him a date and Youngjae is still bitter and has no compunctions in letting it known as he studiously ignores Himchan, who’s driving him back home. 

“Look, I said I’m sorry.” 

Himchan lets out a frustrated sigh when Youngjae keeps quiet. Good. 

“How was I supposed to know you guys had plans?” He protests. 

Youngjae glares at him. “You would, if you’d just listen to Daehyun.” 

“I had it all planned out, hyung,” Youngjae continues, not giving Himchan any more room to interrupt. “We were going to get dinner and then I was going to convince him to come over to my place and have him crush my face with his thighs.” 

“Fucking hell, Youngjae —”

“But no,” he drawls, “instead, I had to listen to you talk all night, as if I don’t hear it enough every other day.” Youngjae pulls at his hair, close to hysterical. “I even flirted with him, hyung! I embarrassed myself right in front of everyone and this is what I get.” 

Youngjae crosses his arms, grumbling, “Blue balls and no date.” He relishes Himchan’s pallor. “Thanks ever so fucking much, hyung.” 

Himchan rubs a hand across his face and groans. “Please don’t say things like that about Daehyun, he’s like a brother to me.” 

“Well, I’m telling you that I want that brother of yours to fuck me.” 

Himchan squawks and Youngjae flips him off before hopping out of the car and stomps all the way to his apartment. 

  


\--

  


The next day, still groggy from sleep, Youngjae reaches for his phone to check the time. He squints at the too bright screen when he sees there are two unread messages from an unknown number, frown deepening. The crease on his brow smooth when he reads the message. He grins. 

  


_[1.21] Hey, it’s Daehyun. Himchan-hyung gave me your number._

_[1.22] I think he feels bad.. did you give him a talking to?_

  


He types up a reply before saving Daehyun’s number. 

  


_[10.28] I managed to scar him enough._

  


He pushes himself off the bed and totters over to the bathroom, getting ready for a day full of lounging. He’s pretty sure he has an article due tomorrow, so he’ll probably end up working on that. 

When he comes back to the room, refreshed and fully awake, he goes to unplug his phone to a new text from Daehyun. 

  


_[10.31] You seem to be pretty well versed when it comes to traumatizing people_

_[10.31] I’ve experienced it first hand_

  


Snorting, he types back a reply. 

  


_[10.37] Oh how very terrible it is to have some guy ogle over you. What a tough life you lead._

  


Youngjae scoops up his laptop and files into his arms and lays them on the coffee table. Armed with apple juice and some snacks, that is how Youngjae spends his Sunday: working on his article, intermittently texting Daehyun on his phone, with the TV turned to the lowest volume to serve as background noise. 

  


\--

  


They strike up an easy friendship after that, most of the time texting, and the occasional meet ups on weekends to hang out. Usually they’d end up playing futsal or just watch a movie. Sometimes, they’d stay in the studio where Daehyun works, talking, and Daehyun constantly goading him into learning a new pole trick until he relents. 

One time during such a night out, they ended up in a strip club—because neither had been to—and subsequently banned from stepping foot again because Daehyun had rocked the dancing pole better than half the strippers there had, even though he was drunk off his ass. And Youngjae hadn’t really tried to stop as he too was drunkenly cheering on for him, waving a wad of cash. 

Himchan is mostly thrilled with their development and likes to take credit for his hand in play. Sometimes, though, when he doesn’t have a drinking buddy for the weekend, he’d complain to Youngjae over the phone how he never hangs out with him anymore or yell at him to _stop stealing my Daehyun damnit._

So when Himchan called to invite himself over for lunch and asked if Youngjae wanted to eat anything specific, he didn’t think too much over it. 

“I want tonkatsu,” he’d replied absently, scrolling over his emails. 

That was 20 minutes ago, and Youngjae is still agonizing over his article when he hears feet shuffling over to his desk. Assuming it’s Himchan, he rolls his chair away from the desk and stretches, groaning loudly as he does so. 

Someone who is definitely not Himchan snorts. 

“Very attractive.” 

“Daehyun?” Youngjae splutters. Sure enough, Daehyun is standing in front of his desk, looking unfairly adorable in jeans and a hoodie, grinning at him. “I thought you were Himchan-hyung.” 

Daehyun shrugs, the plastic bag in his hand rustling at the movement. “Sorry to disappoint. I was looking for him too, actually. He asked if I could come by and have lunch with him.” He holds up the bag in his hand. 

It smells suspiciously like tonkatsu. 

“He works at another department,” Youngjae says. “In fact, he works in a completely different building.” 

Daehyun’s lips twitch. “How strange. I’m guessing he isn’t craving for Japanese food either?” 

Youngjae affirms with a shake of his head. “Nope, that would be me.” 

They manage to hold their expressions for all of two seconds before they burst out laughing. 

“I think we’ve been set up,” Youngjae wheezes, leaning back into his seat. 

Daehyun huffs in exasperation, settling down the food onto his desk. “Yes, well. I guess we should eat this before it gets cold.” 

Youngjae tries to contain his smile when Daehyun drags a chair from a vacant desk and plops himself onto it. When Daehyun pulls the covers off the containers and the smell wafts over them both, they groaned in unison and titter when they catch themselves. 

“It’s the best tonkatsu in this area,” Daehyun claims. Youngjae feels like he’s struck gold when he sees the logo of his favourite Japanese restaurant and agrees with a happy hum. 

They talk about everything and nothing, Daehyun getting louder when he’s trying to win a point, almost spitting rice into Youngjae’s face, and Youngjae argues back when he feels like it and relents when he’s trying to swallow around a mouthful of meat. 

After they’ve both finished with their lunch, Daehyun collects the empty containers and lingers for a moment. It happens a lot, the lingering. Youngjae watches him quietly as he works up the nerves to finally say, “I still owe you a date.” 

Youngjae grins. “Yes, you do.” 

Daehyun pulls out a small pamphlet from his pocket, sliding it over towards him. “There’s a benefit recital tomorrow night. It’s to raise awareness for performing arts schools, and uh… I’ll be performing.” 

“That’s amazing,” Youngjae says, sounding a little too breathless for his liking. “I’ll definitely come.” 

Daehyun smiles, pleased and relieved. “Can we do lunch before that? I’ll cook.” 

“Wow, inviting me over to your place already. Aren’t you moving fast,” he teases. 

Daehyun just rolls his eyes at him. “I’ll text you my address later, Youngjae.” 

He ignores the way his heart thumps at the call of his name, waiting until Daehyun’s completely left before he bangs his head on his desk. He groans, willing tomorrow to come sooner before he completely loses his head. 

There’s a text from Himchan and when he opens it, there’s nothing except for a wink emoji, and Youngjae laughs. 

  


\--

  


It’s his first time over, and Youngjae can’t help but drink everything in. Daehyun’s apartment is a twenty-minute train ride away from Youngjae’s. The living room consists of a TV, a PS4, a coffee table, and a squishy looking couch. There’s probably a bedroom somewhere, he reckons, but he refuses to think about it. He does, however, double take when he spots one lone pole in the far corner of the living room, mirrors lining a patch of the wall. 

“Daehyun,” he says, still staring, “you have a pole in your living room.” 

He jumps when Daehyun bursts into a loud laugh, and turns to see him still over the stove, looking amused. 

“Why are you so surprised? I’m a pole dancer.” 

Youngjae feels his cheeks heat. “I _know_ that. It’s just. I didn’t think…” he trails off, waving his hands at the general existence of the pole, and scowls when Daehyun gives him a knowing look. He huffs, going over to where Daehyun’s still hovering over a pot. 

“What are you cooking anyway?” 

Peering into the pot, Youngjae sees red soup bubbling away, the smell of the spice making his mouth water. Noodles and rice cakes bobbing up and down, swimming around with the vegetables and fishcakes Daehyun’s thrown into the mix. His stomach growls. 

Daehyun snickers as he turns off the heat, scooping up the food into two bowls before handing one to Youngjae. They settle on the couch and tuck in, Youngjae marvelling at the taste and slurping loudly to prove his point while Daehyun squawks at him for spluttering red sauce all over. 

They fall into easy conversation, and continue even after they’ve finished eating, Daehyun having fixed them both hot tea. 

Youngjae nurses his tea as he listens to Daehyun. He’s leaning on one end of the couch, Daehyun at the other end, his legs are occupying the space between them, toes just brushing against Daehyun’s thigh. He bites his lip when Daehyun casually brings his feet into his lap, rubbing soothing patterns on his ankles. He might have dozed off a little, yelping when Daehyun pinches his big toe in retaliation. 

“Way to tell your date he’s boring you.” Daehyun pouts. Youngjae hates himself for finding it cute. 

“I’m not bored,” he corrects, “just comfortable.” 

“Because of the food?” Daehyun’s grinning now, looking like a puppy waiting for a belly rub. 

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, because of your impeccable cooking, but also because I like you. Stop trying to impress me, Daehyun. I don’t need to be wined and dined for you to get inside my pants.” 

His eyes widen when he realised what he just said, but doesn’t take it back. 

Daehyun is quiet as he looks over at him, thinking. Then, slowly, he crawls over to him; one hand bracing himself on the arm of the couch Youngjae’s head is resting on, the other prying Youngjae’s mug away. And he just looks, Youngjae staring back. 

“So…” Daehyun trails, his voice thick. He’s holding himself up with both hands on either side of Youngjae’s head. This close, Youngjae can feel his warm breath fanning over his face and he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He almost whines when Daehyun’s eyes follow the movement, distracted, before he looks back at him. “If we kiss now, and end up doing more, you don’t mind?” 

“No.” 

They move at the same time, closing the small gap between them to press their lips together. It’s chaste, inquisitive; just the two of them finding the best angle to fit their lips without bumping their noses—huffing out a laugh when they do. Youngjae loves that Daehyun’s lower lip is a bit dry, fixing it with a lick and a nibble. He gets a soft moan in return, and does it again. 

They’ve been dancing around each other for weeks that Youngjae doesn’t mind the back and forth between their kisses. Just a press of the lips, a teasing bite, a lick, before pulling back to start it all over again. It’s kind of like the weird mating dance they’ve been doing; shameless flirting one moment and timid smiles the next. 

Youngjae lets out a little sigh when Daehyun deepens the kiss, demanding entry into his willing mouth. It’s no longer chaste, the kiss, but it’s still a slow exploration, taking each other in properly for the first time. They stay still mostly, as they focus more on breathing in deeply, feeling the heat spread between them and curl deep and low in their bellies. A slow, sweet burn. 

He curls his tongue against the roof of Daehyun’s mouth. A moan reverberates from somewhere deep within Daehyun’s throat and Youngjae swallows it down happily. He whines when Daehyun pulls away, the wet sound of their lips separating obscenely loud in the quiet room. 

The couch dips as Daehyun shifts, fastening his grip against Youngjae’s waist and tugs him down so that he lays flat on the cushion. Youngjae doesn’t have time to think before Daehyun meshes their lips together, this time not even waiting to be granted access and pries open his mouth with a forceful tongue, pushing inside and sucking onto Youngjae’s own tongue. 

Wanting to feel more, Youngjae slips his hands underneath Daehyun’s shirt, fingers skittering over his sides and stomach, tracing over his abdominal muscles, almost smiling at the way they jump at the touch. His fingers stop short over the hem of Daehyun’s jeans, and Youngjae can feel him pause, before they dance away to instead run along his back. They trail higher, tracing his shoulder blades and then back down to skim across his waist before ascending again. 

Daehyun pulls away with a sigh, leaning his forehead against his. His eyes are closed as he pants, savouring the simple touch. Youngjae takes that chance to press his nose against Daehyun’s, nuzzling his face before pressing a soft kiss on his warm cheek, down his face to his jaw and biting his chin playfully. He smiles when Daehyun lets out a shaky laugh. 

Now that they’re calmer, Daehyun pulls back enough to look at him, not saying a word. Youngjae smirks at him for being oddly quiet except for his sharp breaths, puffing warmth over his face. Daehyun responds with a soft laugh. 

Shifting to get more comfortable, Daehyun pecks at his lips with a loud smack, pulling a bubbling laugh from him. He hums when Daehyun starts to trail soft kisses along his jaw to the back of his ear, and down to his throat, stopping at his collarbone. 

Youngjae tangles his fingers into Daehyun’s hair, keeping him where he is, perched over his protruding collarbone, and sighs when he feels a tongue laving at the dip. His sigh quickly dissolving into a soft moan when Daehyun draws the skin there between his teeth and sucks. 

Without even pausing, Daehyun’s hands slide over his legs and settle at the back of his knees, pulling at them. Youngjae relents easily; wrapping his legs around Daehyun’s waist and pulls him closer. Their hips fall into place, snug against each other, and they both moan at the contact. 

With his hands still in Daehyun’s hair, Youngjae pulls him into a frantic kiss that’s mostly tongue and teeth. He breaks away with a gasp when Daehyun grinds down into him, and promptly fits his face into the crook of Daehyun’s neck to drown his own noises that are too loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

Daehyun, too, burrows his nose into Youngjae’s shoulder, breathing him in before he starts moving, just a slow roll of the hips at first, coaxing. When Youngjae hikes his legs higher and reciprocates, they move together more purposefully, establishing a steady pace. 

Soon enough, the room is filled with the sound of harsh breaths and muffled moans, the air around them hung heavy with an unbearable heat. From where they’re pressed together, to the hot breaths puffed into each other’s flushed skin. Youngjae feels a bit faint; it’s too much but not enough. 

He looks up when Daehyun pulls away, hair sticking up messily, lips parted, red and swollen and his eyes glazed over. Youngjae doesn’t think he’s faring much better. 

Daehyun runs his palms along his thighs, and Youngjae spreads them wider in response. His breath hitches when Daehyun starts kneading at his inner thighs, hands riding higher, before he bypasses and settles on his stomach instead. Youngjae groans in protest, too strung up to entertain any more teasing. 

Daehyun, however, seems intent on dragging this out; running a finger down his zip and back up, the touch feather light, smirking when Youngjae tries to chase after it. He does it again, this time pressing down harder, and Youngjae doesn’t even care if he’s being too loud, almost sobbing in relief when Daehyun goes to pop his button open. 

A shrill sound rips through the haze fogging the room. They both blink dazedly at each other trying to figure out what had been intruding them rudely, before realising it’s Daehyun’s phone ringing. 

Youngjae glares at Daehyun in warning, but then the ringing tapers off to an end. It goes off again, almost immediately, taunting them, and Daehyun grunts as he pulls his phone out from where it was wedged in the cushion. 

At the reminder set on the screen, Daehyun curses loudly and springs away from the couch. “I have to get ready,” he says in a rush, staggering to somewhere that does not lead to Youngjae’s satisfactory climax. He emits a pitiful whine, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes and clutching at his hairline. 

Daehyun shuffles back in, a bag slung over his shoulder as he looks down at Youngjae apologetically. He leans down and kisses the back of his hand. “I’m really, really sorry.” 

Youngjae makes a protesting noise at the back of his throat when Daehyun gently pulls his hands away from his eyes. There’s a fond look in his eyes that Youngjae resolutely ignores in favour of glaring at him. 

Daehyun doesn’t apologize, just looks at him with open affection, and Youngjae doesn’t last five seconds before he huffs and turns his head away. “Whatever,” he grumbles. 

He eyes the front of Daehyun’s pants, no longer tented, and sighs forlornly. It’s unfair that Daehyun seems unaffected after all that, when he’s still frazzled. 

“Hey, no,” Daehyun coos, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm. “I don’t exactly sport a boner over the idea of working, you know.” 

Youngjae allows the touch, needing it to calm down, when Daehyun ruins it by asking, “You’re still coming right?” 

Waving at his crotch angrily, Youngjae snaps. “I’m still hard if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Daehyun’s lips twitch. “I meant to the recital,” he says, sounding way too amused. 

Youngjae scowls, his cheeks flaring in embarrassment. “Yeah, of course.” 

Daehyun bumps their foreheads gently. “I’ll see you later.” Only standing up when Youngjae grunts in reply. 

With one last reminder to lock up before he leaves, Daehyun is out the door, leaving him alone. He stares at the ceiling, waiting to calm down completely before going home. 

  


\--

  


When he arrives at the student theatre, Youngjae is taken aback by the amount of people present. Everyone is dressed impeccably in pretty dresses and suits. He runs a self-conscious hand down his shirt; glad he decided to wear slacks instead of tights. 

He scans the crowd for a familiar face and is relieved to see Himchan at the buffet table, deep in conversation with another guy he doesn’t recognise. Sauntering over, Youngjae looks around the area, noticing exhibition booths scattered around to educate and inform. He makes a mental note to check them later. 

“Hyung,” he greets Himchan, who looks pleasantly surprised to see him. 

Himchan pulls him into a brief hug and introduces him to the guy he’s been talking to as Jongup, Daehyun’s colleague. He rakes his eyes over him and smirks. “Someone’s looking sharp tonight.” 

Youngjae ignores the taunt. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself.” 

They barely manage to slide into three empty seats near the front of the stage, before the lights dim and the event coordinator takes the stage. 

The itinerary only mentioned _Performances_ intercepted by a few auctions and awards ceremony, it didn’t really mentioned how many different performances was in store for the audience. Had he known, he would have brought his camera with him. 

His hands itch to snap pictures of the actors from the short stage play, the pianist who played a classical rendition of PPAP that sounded both comical and heartfelt, and he wonders when Daehyun will be up. 

The announcer comes back on stage after one of the benefactors finished presenting. A light catches something from the centre of the stage that is kept dimmed, blinding him for a moment, before Youngjae makes out the two poles set up and, he sits up straighter, whatever the announcer is saying turns into white noise. 

When the lights dim completely, Youngjae sees Daehyun’s silhouette walking up on stage and standing between the two poles, back facing the audience. A song starts playing with just the vocals accompanied by the sounds of snapping fingers. Only a few lights are on, enough to see Daehyun’s silhouette snapping his fingers along. 

As the music builds up, Daehyun starts moving his hips along and he saunters over to one of the poles, still with his back facing the audience. Then as it hits crescendo, all the lights flash on, blinding for a moment, just in time to catch Daehyun pulling his body up into a fan kick around the pole. His legs hover in the air and propels himself straight into an upside down pirouette. He twirls slowly around the pole, manoeuvring himself into a horizontal position and eventually back to an upright position. 

He pauses, just as the music does, supporting himself with a hand and one foot hooked against the pole, the other leg extended out, poised like a ballerina. The music starts again, and Youngjae’s heart is in throat, along with many others, when Daehyun leaps from one pole to another. He catches himself perfectly and curls around the pole as he spins. Youngjae doesn’t even know how he does it when his arms and legs aren’t even holding him up. 

That’s when he hears Himchan cheering like a madman. He blinks, hearing the theatre filled with loud applause. Even Jongup is hollering monotonously as he stares through the screen of his iPhone, recording the entire thing. 

Daehyun is obviously feeding off the crowd’s energy with the way he’s smiling as he balances himself with one hand gripping onto the pole at his lower back, the other one level with his face. He mimes walking in mid-air as he pulls himself upside down—grinning when the clapping intensifies— and leans into the pole. Youngjae squeaks when Daehyun drops forward suddenly, breaking the fall by wrapping his legs around the pole and spins, hands-free. 

When he comes to a stop with his face inches from the floor, Daehyun stands on his two hands. One leg is kept straight against the pole, as he bends the other, pointing his toes towards his head. 

At one point, the music starts to get faster, reaching its climax. Daehyun grabs onto the pole with both hands, pulling himself into another fan kick, similar to the one he did in the beginning of his routine, and balances himself horizontally to seamlessly move into a spin before he lands on one foot. He hooks his knee around the pole and tucks his arms to his side as he leans his body away from the metal. 

Youngjae’s eyes flit frantically, finding it hard to keep up with the movements that come one after the other without pause, mirroring the music. When the music finally reaches its climax, Daehyun is spinning around the pole horizontally, his back parallel to the floor. He slows down, and plops his butt on the ground as the music trails off to a stop. 

Youngjae jumps to his feet, clapping his hands so hard it stings and cheering so loudly he might actually lose his voice. He catches Daehyun’s eyes as he stands up from a bow, and feels his chest warm when Daehyun’s grin turns soft. 

  


\--

  


When Daehyun joins them later, he’s already changed into a white button down and jeans. Youngjae hangs back when Himchan pulls him into a hug, cradling his head. Daehyun’s laughing as he squeezes back, and then he goes to pull Jongup in a one-armed hug. 

Daehyun turns to him last, looking expectant. Youngjae hesitates for a beat before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Daehyun grins, colour riding high on his cheeks, and winds an arm around his waist, keeps it there throughout the social pleasantries. 

Himchan gives them a pointed look, demanding an explanation. Daehyun just pulls him closer, much to Himchan’s chagrin. Youngjae shrugs, secretly liking the way Daehyun rests his hand against the small of his back whenever he’s roped into a conversation. 

A few pointed looks are directed at their proximity, until one of the ladies Daehyun’s talking to casually says they look cute together. Daehyun beams. 

Youngjae savours the word _together_ , cradling it carefully with the palms of his hands like a precious gem and holds it close to where his heart beats a little too fast. 

  



End file.
